First Steps
by trinkierae
Summary: Daryl is afraid, but fear gives way to joy. Even in the broken world after the turn, he found a family and now that word means more than he ever thought it would. One Shot


Daryl heard his name being yelled from outside their house. He felt a lead ball drop in his belly.

"Don't panic; you can't help 'em if you panic," he told himself. It was a sharp, staccato yell. Not the shrill shriek of terror or agony they had all grown accustomed to hearing. Not death screams or screams of fear or the unearthly sound the human voice made when there was no way to escape the snapping, snarling mouths.

"Sumbody's out there wid' 'em, tryin' ta take 'em," he thought.

"Daryl! Daryl!", came is name again. Excited, quick, insistent. He glanced in his room as he passed the open door.

" When did they go outside? They were jus' in there playin'," his mind was racing.

He started down the stairs, crossbow in hand, "Why can't I fly?", he scolded himself as he ran through the kitchen to reach the backdoor; her voice was coming from that direction.

"Let 'em be alright, God. Don't take 'em from me, please. They're mine; You gave 'em ta me in all this hell. Let 'em be alright". He was begging; pleading with the Untouchable, Unknown, Unseen.

He hadn't heard them leave. Maybe it was the hammering or the power saw. Was that why he hadn't heard them leave? She said she needed the shelves; he needed all kinds of stuff and she was running out of space. She'd asked Daryl about it a week or two ago. They found a few two by fours the day before. How could a couple of shelves take his family?

"No. Jus', please, no," he continued his plea.

He hadn't heard them go downstairs, he didn't know they were that far away from him. He could have cut the boards outside, but supplies were precious; he wanted to be able to see where and how the shelves would fit.

"I shoulda been watchin'. I didn't know they went outside."

He threw the door open and stepped down the two back steps with his crossbow raised. The same steps they liked to sit on, after he was asleep, and talk-about everything. He mostly listened; she did most of the talking. He loved it. He didn't even mind when she talked about before. It scared him sometimes because it made him think about her not being his, about them not being together. That thought was terrifying for Daryl, but her voice was like honey in his ear and he. loved. it. With her, the hell that the world had become made sense. Their world, the world she made with him, was perfect.

There was no one or no thing in sight as Daryl's feet hit the soft grass.

"They're hidin'- sumbody grabbed 'em-they're dead," his mind flew like a leaf in the wind. From behind a bush he heard his name called again.

"Daryl!", the same sound of excitement, but with more urgency this time.

"No", he said in a whisper.

She stood, both arms extended outward, halting Daryl in his tracks. Sasha's face was beaming with a toothy, open-mouthed smile. There was no fear, no panic, just joy.

"Stay there, baby," she said to her big baby. "He's gonna come to you! Stay there. Go to daddy, baby, go to daddy!", Sasha said to her little baby.

Then, in full view, on shaky legs, Daryl saw a giggling toddler. It was the sweetest sight Daryl had ever seen. The slow, jerky, beautiful first steps of his baby boy. Daryl let the crossbow drop to his side. His heart now left his throat and he stood stone still taking in what he saw. Sasha noticed the strained look on his face at the selfsame moment it vanished and was replaced with an expression of relief, pride, love...pure joy.

"Look at him, yay!", Sasha cheered and clapped for D.J. "Go , baby, keep going!". D.J. continued to toddle toward his stunned, speechless father.

With great effort, Daryl finally spoke, " Com' on, D.J., com' to daddy." With tears in his eyes, Daryl watched as the little mophead made its way across the short distance that separated him from the baby.

Sasha let out another happy squeal, "Yaaay!"

"Com' on, big boy," Daryl coaxed his almost one-year-old, "com' ta daddy,"; now more willing to accept the miracle he was witnessing. " Almos'. One more," he said as the curly-haired baby fell into his outstretched arms. Daryl stood and swung D.J. around. He tossed him up and caught him, much to D.J.'s delight-the baby was now in uncontrollable giggles.

Sasha looked at Daryl. Then, to the now discarded crossbow, then back to him. "What?", her voice tinged with worry.

" Nothin,'...it's nothin'...jus', I didn't hear y'all go out...I heard ya yellin' fuh' me...I thought"...he trailed off and shifted his weight from foot to foot with the baby in his arms; he held D.J.'s face against his own.

"I'm sorry, baby...I thought you heard me say we were headed outside...I'm so sorry". She stroked his back as she rested her forehead on his upper arm. Daryl placed kiss after kiss on D.J.'s eyes, cheeks, chin, forehead, wherever he could get his lips. He wrapped his free arm around Sasha and kissed her forehead and cheek as well, before kissing her lips softly, reverently.

He choked back a tremble in his voice and said in a booming voice, " You took yer first steps! Sasha, our lil' man walked! Now you can go out in the woods wid' me. Ain't tha' right? Huh, D.J? Ain't tha' right?"

"Uhh, no.", Sasha said, reaching for D.J. "You're not taking my baby out in those woods where snakes, mosquitoes, gnats, and God-knows what else-she gave Daryl a knowing look of protest-can bite him. No way...not yet, anyway", she nuzzled her nose into his soft, fat cheek.

Daryl encircled them both in his arms. Lifting them off the ground, he turned them all around in a circle.."Sasha, D.J. took his first steps!" She and D.J. both squealed; this time, to Daryl's delight. Daryl set them down and smothered Sasha's mouth with his own and spoke to the Untouchable, Unknown, Unseen: "Thank You. They're safe. She loves me. My boy took his first steps."


End file.
